Monday, August 20, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 19
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Sunday Stealing
1. You have been awarded the time off from work and an
all-expenses paid week anywhere in the United States. The catch is that it must
be somewhere you have not been before. Where do you choose to visit? Savannah, Georgia. I was fascinated by it when I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. That book makes Savannah seem like Mayberry on acid. I'd like to stay there for a while, and stay there in style, so I could take it all in.
2. Name three of your guilty pleasures. Long baths, fast food burgers, and The People's Court.
2. Name three of your guilty pleasures. Long baths, fast food burgers, and The People's Court.
3. The best kind of Girl Scout Cookie is: Thin Mint.
4. What do you value most in other people? Compassion
5. Be honest. Do you sneak some raw cookie dough when you’re baking cookies? On those rare (very rare) occasions that I bake, yes.
6. Have you ever looked back at your life and realized that something you thought was a bad thing was actually a blessing in disguise? Ending a relationship. We wouldn't have made one another happy over the long haul, so it was just as well. Though it certainly didn't feel that way at the time.
7. What is the most beautiful place you’ve ever visited? Wrigley Field. The Arc de Triomphe was nice and all, but I still prefer The Friendly Confines.
8. Are you more of a thinker or a feeler? Feeler.
9. Name three things you are thankful for right now. My cats, my friends, and air conditioning.
10. Have you ever participated in a three-legged race? I must have. I just can't recall it specifically right now.
11.
When you are at an event that plays the National Anthem, do you place your hand
over your heart? No. But I always stand.
Second meme:
12. What kind of work do you do? I'm an advertising writer.
12. What kind of work do you do? I'm an advertising writer.
13. During the course of your lifetime,
which job or career has been your favorite or most fulfilling? I enjoyed writing about hair care products. It was fun.
14. Do you think it’s necessary in your
life to have a day-to-day “career” that is meaningful and service-oriented or
do you function better in “just a job” with a steady paycheck? The older I get, the more I lean toward the latter.
15. Was there ever a time in your life
when you wanted to stay home with your children instead of working, even if it
meant less money in the household? I don't have any children.
16. Tell us your worst boss story. I once had a boss who was a complete nutjob. She told me that the reason why we clashed so much is reincarnation -- that we have been adversaries in a past life and if we didn't work it through now, we would keep battling for all eternity.
17. Have your ever been the boss? Yes. I hated it.
18. What is your dream occupation?
I think I'd be a good pet sitter.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 18
A little boy of about 2 or 3 was completely rocking out. Stomping his feet and keeping the beat. He was so excited, so into it, that he kept pulling his shirt up and twisting it in his small fist. It's as though the music transported him. It was a delight to see how happy it made him.
A Gentleman of a Certain Age
I was having a really good Saturday. Breakfast at my favorite coffee shop, which lately has been so busy on weekends I can't get table. Their breakfast meats are just better than anywhere else's, and I had the Eggs Benedict.
Then I called for a cab for a ride to a salon a couple towns over. My cabbie was a lovely older lady, a grandma, who is a nail tech by trade and a driver on weekends. And a big Elvis fan. She drove slowly and got me there a little late, but what they hey! She was careful and the ride was safe.
First I had a champagne and strawberries pedi. The pedi itself was pretty workmanlike, but there's something about champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries that can brighten a Saturday afternoon.
Then I had a facial. It, too, was pretty workmanlike, no dermabrasion and just a few extractions on my nose. I'd like to think it's because my complexion is so dewey, but it's because it wasn't a very sophisticated facial. Still, she had a nice touch, the room was fragrant and dark and comforting, and I dozed off. (That never happens during extractions!)
Finally, the massage. Ah! The massage therapist was a young man in his 20s, but he put me at ease. It was a short massage, only 30 minutes, but he did wonders for my shoulders. I haven't worked out much this month, and it felt good to have someone artfully work the kinks out.
Then I went across the street to Dunkin' Donuts to wait for my cab home. And that's when it went to hell.
My cab driver was a Vietnam War veteran who insisted on talking politics with me. INSISTED! He was a rock-ribbed Republican, which is fine, but he was a misinformed one. It was making my teeth hurt. I kept saying, "I'd really like this conversation to end," and "I wish this conversation was over." But I guess he was like Wiley Coyote and he needed the ACME anvil to fall on his head.
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS ANYMORE!" I said. "And please stop disrespecting me."
"What?"
"I have been asking you for two miles to end the conversation and you just keep talking and it upsets me."
His response? He laughed.
Clearly, to a man of 70+, my opinion as a mere white chick didn't matter. Never mind that I am his customer.
"And now you're laughing at me. That's insulting."
"I'm not laughing," he chuckled. "Besides, most people like a good debate." Except this wasn't a debate. This was a lecture from a man who thinks the world is flat. And I was held captive in the backseat and paying for this punishment.
"So this is my fault? I ask you to stop talking, you continue and it's my fault?"
"Never bothered anyone else before," he said. I find that hard to believe. My neighborhood couldn't be bluer and his attitude is not within the mainsteam. I think I may just be the first one to ask him to shut up.
"Can't. We. Please. Stop. Talking."
"They say you shouldn't discuss politics and religion."
"I don't want to discuss anything with you!" I carry a book with me at all times for this very reason.
"You don't want to talk?" he asked incredulously. As though it shocked him that anyone wouldn't want to hear him pontificate.
For a local cab driver, I was surprised he didn't know my street was closed for a neighborhood festival. Or maybe he did and was so shocked by my humorlessness that he forgot. So I got to spend even more time with him as he maneuvered his way around street closures and one way signs.
When we finally got to my house I did tip him. I almost didn't -- I was so angry. But then I thought, his job is to get me from hither to yon safely, and he did that, and gas is $4.00/gallon. So I gave him $2.00 over the meter. Even though he did completely harsh my massage zen.
Then I went to the local street fair and drowned my anxiety in mac and cheese with Andouille sausage so spicy I actually sweated.
Then I called for a cab for a ride to a salon a couple towns over. My cabbie was a lovely older lady, a grandma, who is a nail tech by trade and a driver on weekends. And a big Elvis fan. She drove slowly and got me there a little late, but what they hey! She was careful and the ride was safe.
First I had a champagne and strawberries pedi. The pedi itself was pretty workmanlike, but there's something about champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries that can brighten a Saturday afternoon.
Then I had a facial. It, too, was pretty workmanlike, no dermabrasion and just a few extractions on my nose. I'd like to think it's because my complexion is so dewey, but it's because it wasn't a very sophisticated facial. Still, she had a nice touch, the room was fragrant and dark and comforting, and I dozed off. (That never happens during extractions!)
Finally, the massage. Ah! The massage therapist was a young man in his 20s, but he put me at ease. It was a short massage, only 30 minutes, but he did wonders for my shoulders. I haven't worked out much this month, and it felt good to have someone artfully work the kinks out.
Then I went across the street to Dunkin' Donuts to wait for my cab home. And that's when it went to hell.
"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS ANYMORE!" I said. "And please stop disrespecting me."
"What?"
"I have been asking you for two miles to end the conversation and you just keep talking and it upsets me."
His response? He laughed.
Clearly, to a man of 70+, my opinion as a mere white chick didn't matter. Never mind that I am his customer.
"And now you're laughing at me. That's insulting."
"I'm not laughing," he chuckled. "Besides, most people like a good debate." Except this wasn't a debate. This was a lecture from a man who thinks the world is flat. And I was held captive in the backseat and paying for this punishment.
"So this is my fault? I ask you to stop talking, you continue and it's my fault?"
"Never bothered anyone else before," he said. I find that hard to believe. My neighborhood couldn't be bluer and his attitude is not within the mainsteam. I think I may just be the first one to ask him to shut up."Can't. We. Please. Stop. Talking."
"They say you shouldn't discuss politics and religion."
"I don't want to discuss anything with you!" I carry a book with me at all times for this very reason.
"You don't want to talk?" he asked incredulously. As though it shocked him that anyone wouldn't want to hear him pontificate.
For a local cab driver, I was surprised he didn't know my street was closed for a neighborhood festival. Or maybe he did and was so shocked by my humorlessness that he forgot. So I got to spend even more time with him as he maneuvered his way around street closures and one way signs.
When we finally got to my house I did tip him. I almost didn't -- I was so angry. But then I thought, his job is to get me from hither to yon safely, and he did that, and gas is $4.00/gallon. So I gave him $2.00 over the meter. Even though he did completely harsh my massage zen.
Then I went to the local street fair and drowned my anxiety in mac and cheese with Andouille sausage so spicy I actually sweated.
File it under: Isn't life funny?
About 12 years ago, I worked with an account executive (a "Pete Campbell," for all you Mad Men fans out there) who had a mass of unruly curls. I always thought her hair was very pretty and admired her for the way she wore it: loose and free.
There. I've now shared every nice thing I can think of about this woman.
She was a drama queen. She was massively self-centered. For example, once while we were traveling together on business, she was upset because the airline had the audacity to question her for being ticketed under one name (she was a newly wed) while her driver's license bore another (Shuh! With the wedding and honeymoon, who has TIME to change these things and besides, she's WHITE, not some Arab!). She could be a Mean Girl. And, amazingly, she told management she was afraid of ME, little old me, which leads me to believe she was one of the least self-aware bullies I've ever met.
She was either 30 or almost 30 when we worked together and had severe baby lust. She went on to have two in rapid succession. When I found she was pregnant with her first, I got a laugh from those of us who had survived working with her by describing her beating her husband over the head with the sonogram. "I said I wanted a BOY!" I always felt sorry for her kids.
I kept tabs on her professionally because I never, ever want to work with her again. I cannot put too fine a point on how Type A and selfish she is.
She dropped out of advertising over a year ago and, I heard, went back to school full time.
I just found out that she's a .... wait for it .... a counselor. An LPC. A mental health professional!
I hope that, for her sake, she's a more restful soul. Less demanding. Less dramatic. Maybe her own experiences in therapy enriched her life so that she wanted to share with others. I'd like to think that.
It's more positive than feeling sorry for her patients.
It's more positive than feeling sorry for her patients.
Saturday 9
1. What do you think is the most unique thing about your
generation? That there are so many of us, and that we refuse to leave center stage. (I'm a Boomer.)
2. Do you speak out as often as you should? Yes and no. I'm too noisy about some things and too passive about others. When it comes to this, I'm like Mary Todd Lincoln, who once said, "I do the wrong things well."
3. How often are you tough and unreasonable? "Never," she said, smiling modestly.
4. Do you believe that sometimes you learn more from a
failure than a success? Yes, unpleasant though that is.
5. Do you feel that you always have to win? Clearly not. After all, I'm a lifelong Cub fan.
6. Do you think tradition matters? Yes. I always surprise myself with how sentimental I can be.
7. Do you tend to root for the underdog? Always. After all, I'm a lifelong Cub fan.
8. Have you ever felt that you want to exceed your parents’
successes? I never looked at it that way. My life is so very different than theirs.
9. Of all the cartoon characters that you know of, which is
most like you? Mr. Peabody. I'd love a Wayback Machine.
Friday, August 17, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 17
I'm reminded by how much happier I am today than I was two Fridays ago. It's very important to remember that those dark moods pass and the happy ones take their place.
Hi! I'm an idiot!
I couldn't figure out why my check from the 15th looked like it would stretch on and on and on indefinitely. That's because I forgot to subtract for my spending money for the next two weeks. Uh-oh! Gotta undo that deposit into my savings account that made me so happy. What was I thinking?Trifecta
Twenty months will grind inexorably by until
it brings us to the next shared moment in our sad saga – and when Sam is
released from prison, I’ll be there, waiting at the gate.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 16
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
THURSDAY THIRTEEN #184
THIRTEEN THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY
Every year I take the August Happiness Challenge. Here's a brief explanation of the Challenge: "Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world."
Here's a look back on August 2011,
and 13 things that brought me joy during last year's challenge.
This little glance into the rearview mirror makes me appreciate my life more.
1) The Puppy Rescue Mission. I discovered this wonderful group last year, thanks to an article in the Chicago Tribune. Their primary mission is "to help bring home the companions to our soldiers serving in a war zone." Our troops fall in love with the dogs and cats they live with on base in Afghanistan, and it breaks their hearts to leave them behind. Now they don't have to! The PRM doesn't just help dogs and cats. The soldiers who have benefited from the program -- from either keeping their animals with them or knowing the critters are safe -- suffer less PTSD. When you think of how much our troops sacrifice for us, giving $1 or two is a small way to say thank you, isn't it? And supporting the PRM makes me feel so good!
2) Ready-made pina coladas. "The rum is in it!"
3) Successful "decluttering." It looked good in here last August. It's gotten away from me again. Time for a refresher!
4) Blue skies. 'Nuff said.
5) Hot dog and fries, outdoors. I took myself on an impromptu picnic and it was gooooood.
6) My cat Joey. A lovely, gentle soul. I'm lucky to have him in my life.
7) My mom. Last summer, when I was having medical issues, took over taking care of me for a few days and I appreciated feeling so loved and nurtured.
8) I Love Lucy. I do. Ricky, Fred and Ethel, too.
9) Breakfast with Bookmama and her family. They're the only bloggers I have ever met, and it was delightful.
10) Something thoughtful my best friend did. 'Nuff said.
11) Peapod. I love having my groceries delivered.
12) Good insurance. Last year, during my health scare, I was grateful I was able to concentrate on getting better because I knew I'd be able to get the care I need.
13) Movies. I referred to them as "a reliable, cheap high," and it's so true.
For more information about
the Thursday Thirteen,
or to play yourself, click here.
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 15
That's true! Just because I messed up before doesn't mean I have to let it hold me back in the future. This made me feel very hopeful
2012 TCM Summer Under the Stars Blogathon: Jailhouse Rock
TCM will show Jailhouse Rock on Thursday at 9:45 PM EST.
For more blogathon entries, visit http://scribehardonfilm.wordpress.com or http://sittinonabackyardfence.com
A celebration of Jailhouse Rock
on the 35th anniversary of The King's Death
Frank Sinatra appeared in more than 50 screen roles, was nominated for two Oscars and won one. Yet when we remember him, we think of a seminal recording artist. Conversely, Judy Garland simply belongs on screen. Never mind that she made highly-regarded records for both Decca and Capitol. Unlike Sinatra, Garland's CDs aren't often played at weddings or as background music for diners in Italian restaurants. Judy's a movie star.
Elvis Presley is harder to categorize. Thirty-five years after his death, his music is still very much with us. And so are his movies. While they are unarguably nowhere near as good as Garland's or Sinatra's, they are more intrinsically tied to his music and his persona.
It was designed that way. Col. Tom Parker and producer Hal Wallis saw Elvis' movies as a fast way to easy money through soundtrack sales. Parker and Wallis are the villains of the Elvis saga, because when Elvis entered the film business, he aspired to be a serious actor. After signing with Wallis, he confessed to friends that he wanted to be like Sinatra or Bing Crosby -- singers who became respected film stars and eventually earned Oscars to display along with their gold records. But neither of the men in charge of his career would allow him the time it would take to learn the craft. What if Elvis was a fad? They had to make their money as quickly as possible. It's sad that the man referred to as The King allowed himself to be exploited like a pawn. As it is, his movies are regarded as the father of today's music videos. He would have preferred them to have been considered the heirs to the great MGM musicals.
Because Elvis wanted to be an actor as well as a star, I'm happy that he's included in TCM's Summer Under the Stars, along with John Wayne starring in The Flying Leathernecks, one of the movies Elvis saw time and again when he was an usher at The Lowe's Palace in Memphis.That teenage job at Lowe's had an impact because Elvis believed in movie magic. "I saw movies and I was the hero," he said. After seeing Tony Curtis time and again in Son of Ali Baba, Elvis began dying his naturally light hair jet black. Even though he was fired for (shades of Vince Everett) fighting, he retained his sentimental attachment to The Lowe's Palace and that's where Jailhouse Rock premiered in 1957.
The story. Vince Everett is a blue collar kid with a heart of gold. He happens upon a drunk harassing a lady and he intervenes on her behalf. A fight ensues and Vince accidentally kills the bum with a lethal punch. Convicted of manslaughter, he has a hard time conforming to life behind bars. The other prisoners don't accept him and the guards … well, at one point Vince is stripped to the waist and flogged. Soon the sweet kid disappears and a hardened cynic takes his place.
Vince is a hit and receives a ton of fanmail. Savvy old dog that he is, Hunk intercepts the mail before Vince can see it. Then he encourages his protegee to stick with music and -- key plot point here -- persuades him to sign a contract that provides Hunk with 50% of Vince's show business earnings.
Vince is paroled after 20 months behind bars. He's thoroughly corrupted by his experience with the justice system and prepared to do whatever it takes to be a success. While doing the rounds, he meets Peggy Van Alden (Judy Tyler). She's slightly older, a highly professional record promoter and, in her way, just as determined as Vince. She sees potential in Vince, telling him, "I like how you swing a guitar." They join forces to make him a star.
They agree to keep the relationship strictly professional and despite some setbacks along the way, their hard work pays off. It's a combination of Vince's talent and Peggy's dedication; she walks the record around town to music stores and radio stations, using her connections to make sure Vince is heard by anyone who can influence sales. When DJ Teddy Talbot (Dean Jones) asks Peggy out, and she actually goes, Vince is despondent. He realizes he's in love with her, but he's too proud. and too afraid of rejection, to show it.
Just as Vince is getting ready to premiere his new song, "Jailhouse Rock," on a major TV spectacular, Hunk shows up. Fresh out of prison, Hunk insists Vince help him jumpstart his own music career. When told there's no place for cornpone country on Vince's show, Hunk decides to hold Vince to the contract he signed long ago. By now Vince has good legal representation (Vaughn Taylor as an unlikely looking, but very deadly, "shark") and Hunk is advised that the contract is not valid -- in part because Hunk kept Vince's fanmail from him and signed him under false pretenses. Still, remembering how Hunk helped him out in the bad old days, Vince agrees to keep him around. But not as a partner, as (literally) his dog walker. This is not as altruistic as it sounds, for Vince enjoys bringing Hunk to heel more than he does the dogs.
Naturally "Jailhouse Rock" is a huge hit and Vince very happily lets success go to his head. He buys a house in Beverly Hills and fills it with hangers on and starlets. He also makes plans to buy Peggy out -- at a very fair price -- which breaks her heart. For while "keeping it professional" was originally her idea, she's fallen for Vince despite herself, and their business relationship is her only way of staying in his life.
Hunk has a hard time watching this. Here's Vince enjoying the career Hunk wants to have, spurning the affections of the kind of classy woman Hunk wishes he could have, and treating everyone like dirt. Tensions rise and Hunk's temper erupts and he attacks Vince. Even though we know from that first bar fight that Vince can do real damage with his fists, he refuses to hit back. Even after Hunk punches him in the throat.
Doctors warn that Vince may never sing again. Peggy is shattered. Not because Vince's singing has been her source of income, but because she finally saw his decent side. Hunk is beside himself, afraid that his temper may have silenced a great talent. Peggy and Hunk stay at Vince's side throughout his convalescence.Their steadfast loyalty in these tough times softens Vince. At last the doctors tell him it's safe to give his voice a tentative try. When, still in his bathrobe, he wraps an arm around Peggy and begins to sing "Young and Beautiful," we know everyone is going to live happily ever after.
The production number. Has anyone not seen this iconic dance number?
Elvis gets the lion's share of the credit for its success, and he should. Veteran choreographer Alex Romero took a crack at staging it. Elvis said he was "unconvinced" with Romero's initial efforts, feeling the dance was more exuberant Gene Kelly than sullen Vince Everett. Uncharacteristically, he took the reins, adding moves and attitude from his stage show. If only Elvis had inserted himself this forcefully in his movie career more often!
As it is, this number is so impressive and indelible that The National Film Registry deemed Jailhouse Rock "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" and worthy of preservation, right along with The Wizard of Oz and An American in Paris.
The "Jailhouse Rock" number is unique, arrogant and sexy -- elements sorely missing in the mediocre-to-crappy movies Elvis made after returning from the Army in 1960. Over the decade we saw him play a wholesome race car driver, a happy carnival worker, a romantic photographer, etc., as he serenaded beach bunnies, grandmothers and babies. But he was never again as unapologetically surly, ambitious and carnal as Vince Everett in Jailhouse Rock. It's as if the Col. and Wallis foresaw the cultural tsunami of the 1960s and consciously chose to position Elvis as a conventional All-American Boy, ceding the controversial, bad boy role to Brits like John Lennon and Mick Jagger.
It's too bad, because in his pre-Army movies, Elvis showed an innate ability to fuse his personal charisma with a character to create a real screen presence. It's not impossible to imagine Elvis having a career like Burt Reynolds', playing charming good ol' boys who face challenges and are redeemed by the attention of a mentor or the love of a good woman. (Elvis fans often play "what if" about A Star Is Born, because The King was Streisand's first choice for Kris Kristofferson's role. Not me. I wonder what kind of gentle magic he could have made with Dolly Parton in Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.) But instead of waiting for decent scripts, Elvis was lazily used in an amazing number -- 27 in 9 years! -- of uninspiring films.
• "I Want to Be Free" is the song Vince sings in the prison talent show. By Leiber and Stoller, it's a straightforward and forgettable little ballad.
• "Don't Leave Me Now" is a bluesy number by Schroeder and Weisman. We see Vince sing it in the recording studio and watch his disappointment as he listens to the playback. Peggy encourages him to "sing it like you feel it." Inspired, he does it again, his way. "Burn me up this time," he tells the musicians. "Let's see if we can get a little fire in it."
• "Treat Me Nice" is Vince's first hit. Performed in the studio with his band, Vince is far more confident in front of the mic and his clothes and moves are more sophisticated and provocative. Also by Lieber/Stoller, "Treat Me Nice" was the B-side of "Jailhouse Rock." Today it's familiar to a new generation of theater goers because it's showcased in Smokey Joe's Cafe.
• "Young and Beautiful" is a saccharine ballad by Schroeder and Weisman. At the end of the movie, it's the song Vince warbles to Peggy to try out his voice and offer his heart. It's programmed to make young girls swoon.
• "Jailhouse Rock." #1 in the US for seven weeks (including the day I was born, perhaps that's why I feel such an affinity for it). It also hit #1 in the UK and, improbably, on the C&W charts, too. Rolling Stone ranked it #67 on their list of The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.
That brought her to the attention of film producers. She began 1957 by playing the title role in Bop Girl Goes Calypso. She took a few weeks off to get married in Miami before returning to Hollywood for Jailhouse Rock.
Tragically, she was dead before either movie premiered. Just weeks after completing Jailhouse Rock, Judy and her husband got into a 1957 Chevy and headed for their apartment in New York. As they drove through Wyoming, he smashed head on into another car. The collision was so powerful that the other car actually penetrated the Chevy. Judy and the driver of the other car were killed instantly. Her new husband died a few hours later.
Elvis may or may not have had on on-set relationship with Judy Tyler. He used to say that he'd slept with all his leading ladies (except Mary Tyler Moore from Change of Habit). Yet members of Elvis' inner circle doubt they were romantically involved since Judy was so newly married. At any rate, he was shattered by her violent death. "All of us boys really loved that girl," he said, referring to the Jailhouse Rock crew. He could not bring himself to attend her funeral or watch the premiere of Jailhouse Rock. He posed for publicity photos at his beloved Lowe's Palace in Memphis, even accepting an honorary usher's cap from his old boss, but he left before the movie started. He couldn't bear to watch Judy Tyler.
*With whom she would share a grisly fate. Mansfield died in a car crash in 1967.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 14
$645 vs. $465
My theater buddy, Barb, makes a great deal more money than I do. Consequently, the prices of things aren't as important to her as they are to me. She ordered our fall/winter theater tickets and, when I asked her how much they were, she responded, "I don't remember exactly. $645?" So I set aside $650 from my freelance job so I could give her cash next time I saw her.
The thing of it is, she transposed the numbers. I just learned that actually owe Barb $465! That's $200! Pin money for her, perhaps, but real money for me.
As luck would have it, Barbra Streisand tickets went on sale at 10:00 AM yesterday, and some nosebleed seats are still available. And so now I can afford to go!
I know I should put that money toward paying bills, or putting cash away for retirement. But I also deserve to see Babs. She's been part of my life for decades, speaking to me and for me. She's 70 now, and I want to celebrate that. She's still happy, still looks good, and is still in good voice. She's outlived the other divas, from Garland to Houston. That deserves a cheer.
As luck would have it, Barbra Streisand tickets went on sale at 10:00 AM yesterday, and some nosebleed seats are still available. And so now I can afford to go!
I know I should put that money toward paying bills, or putting cash away for retirement. But I also deserve to see Babs. She's been part of my life for decades, speaking to me and for me. She's 70 now, and I want to celebrate that. She's still happy, still looks good, and is still in good voice. She's outlived the other divas, from Garland to Houston. That deserves a cheer.
Monday, August 13, 2012
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 13
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 12
As were just sitting around gabbing, her cell rang. I went into the bathroom to give her privacy and, well, out of necessity. All of a sudden she calls out to me, "Gal! My flight's cancelled!" There was genuine panic in her voice. I asked her why it was cancelled (was it weather related?), and she couldn't answer. She said she just quit listening and hit "save."
She handed me her phone and I listened to the message, wrote down all the new Monday flight information and the airline's number and told her to call them and confirm. After all, she had just been telling me that it was too bad she had to go home, that she had taken Monday off anyway. And we had tickets for Sunday's Fest anyway. So while she was confirming the flight, I was calling the hotel to get our room for another night. They turned me down because they had a massive cosmetics convention coming in Sunday afternoon, but that's OK. O'Hare is either the first or second busiest airports in the world. There are no shortage of hotels on that strip. We found another one quite easily.
We checked out, boarded a free airport shuttle that counted our new hotel as one of its stops, checked in, and boarded the shuttle back for more Beatledom.
I felt a little bad about it because I was missing my alone time, hadn't left enough food out for the cats, and really couldn't afford to spend this much money. But this long weekend in Chicago is her vacation for the whole year, she could afford it, and oh, what the hell! It was very good to see her and we had an extra day of fun.
We checked out, boarded a free airport shuttle that counted our new hotel as one of its stops, checked in, and boarded the shuttle back for more Beatledom.
I felt a little bad about it because I was missing my alone time, hadn't left enough food out for the cats, and really couldn't afford to spend this much money. But this long weekend in Chicago is her vacation for the whole year, she could afford it, and oh, what the hell! It was very good to see her and we had an extra day of fun.
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 11
Well, on Saturday, I saw Freda! She's real! And today she's an English grandmother (about 65) who wants to make sure her kids and grandchildren know that, for 9 years, she worked for the Beatles, answering their mail from their days at the Cavern Club through the height of their fame through their breakup. George's father taught her ballroom dancing. Ringo's mother invited her for Christmas. She went to a McCartney concert in 1991, having purchased her own ticket, and was spotted by Linda who invited her backstage for a reunion with Paul. What a charming lady.
Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net
August Happiness Challenge -- Day 10
But oh, it was good to see her. I haven't laughed so hard in ages! It was all (here's that word again) silly, but it was joyful, too. Our favorite moment came when going through a teen magazine from 1964. Yes, of course, the Beatles were on the cover, looking young and sooooo cute. But a violator on the cover promised: "How YOU Can Be Their Girl" accompanying photos of (are you ready?) Rock Hudson, Jim Nabors and Richard Chamberlain.
It was nice to just laugh about inconsequential things, to reconnect to someone I've known since Kindergarten, and (for a third time) be silly.
Trifecta
HOME (noun)
It’s a sunny Saturday and I’m thrilled because I’m doing what has
brightened my summers ever since I was a little girl: going to a baseball
game at Wrigley Field. As I enter through the turnstyle, I go from
sunlight to a cool, humid, gray darkness. It smells like beer and hot dogs and
salt and … history. I mean, it smells old
in there. After all, it’s been the home of the Chicago Cubs for 96 seasons now.
I locate the entrance to the section where my seat is. I walk up the plain
cement steps and suddenly I see it.
The field itself, bathed in sunshine and blanketed in green.
The grounds are green turf, the red brick walls are covered with ivy, the scoreboard
is painted a flat, deep forest color. The
seats are painted same green and filled with Cub fans just like me. Oh,
they may not look like me – after all, an almost dizzying array of demographics
is represented – but we’re all there for the same reason: we’re here to cheer
our guys and we’re hoping for a win.
As I take it all in my heart swells because I know
I’m home.
Friday, August 10, 2012
2012 TCM Summer Under the Stars Blogathon: A Star Is Born
TCM will show A Star Is Born on first thing Sunday morning
(or last thing Saturday night) at 12:30 AM EST.
(or last thing Saturday night) at 12:30 AM EST.
For more blogathon entries, visit http://scribehardonfilm.wordpress.com or http://sittinonabackyardfence.com
STARRING NORMAN MAINE
I will stipulate that James Mason is a star. A quick perusal of his IMDB page, as well as the lineup that represents him for 24 hours on TCM this Saturday/Sunday, is evidence.
But when I think of my favorite James Mason performances, he's playing supporting roles: Vandamm, the frustratingly opaque spy in North By Northwest … Mr. Jordan, gently handling matters of life and death in Heaven Can Wait … Ed Concannon, the unbeatable attorney (aka The Prince of Darkness) in The Verdict … the twisted enough to be murderous, but so suave you hope he's not, Philip in The Last of Shelia … and most of all, the tormented Norman Maine in A Star Is Born.
But would her Esther have been as emotionally resonant without such a divine Norman? I don't think so. Her simple proclamation,"Hello, everybody. This is Mrs. Norman Maine" packs a wallop because we miss Norman, too. We're sorry he saw no other way for his saga to end. Compare this scene to the similar one in Streisand's remake. When Esther Hoffman takes John Norman Howard's last name as she takes the stage for the finale, we are bowled over by her power and voice, but we don't have the same aching empathy. We're not mourning Kris Kristofferson. (Word is Beyonce will play Esther/Vicki in a new version. Let's hope she gets support from an actor as warm and gifted as as James Mason!)
What do we know about Mason's Norman Maine? I mean, other than that I'm a little in love with him.
• He's a Hollywood creation. Born Ernest Sidney Gubbins and renamed Norman Maine by the studio. He's a leading man -- an action hero as well as a matinee idol who loves the ladies offscreen, as well. Almost as much as he loves liquor. As the movie opens he's reached the peak of his career, and that means he has only one way to go.
• He's an elegant bad boy who has made both powerful friends and enemies. Studio head Oliver Niles (Charles Bickford) appreciates Norman's power as a box office draw and is charmed by him as a raconteur. Press agent Matt Libby (the terrifically toxic Jack Carson) can no longer see the talent or charisma. To Libby, Norman is nothing but broken promises and messes to clean up.
• He's insightful and eloquent. In his best scene, after seeing Esther sing with band in an after hours club, he tells her, "There are certain pleasures you get - little jabs of pleasure. When a swordfish takes the hook, or when you watch a great fighter getting ready for the kill. If you had ever seen a bullfight in your life, you'd know a great bullfighter the moment he set foot to the ring -- from the way he stood, from the way he moved -- or, or a dancer. You don't happen to know about ballet? That little bell rings inside your head, that little jab of pleasure. And that's what happened to me just now. You're a great singer!" She's transfixed by this speech, and so are we. Afterward, Esther says a bit breathlessly, "He gave me a look at myself I've never had before. He saw something in me nobody else ever did. He made me see it too. He made me believe it."
• He's hip about the ways of show biz. He wisely warns Esther to make the smart choices in her career because, "Talent isn't always enough." Watch the scene where he takes over Esther's transformation into Vicki. He tenderly, but masterfully, wipes away the garish paint slathered on by the studio makeup artist but also reapplies it, just right, because he knows how to present a performer to her best advantage.
• He's weak. But he's smart enough to know it. He warns Esther about his losing battle with drink and decadence. "I destroy everything I touch. You've come too late." But, as Mason plays him, there is still so much magic, so much tenderness and love in Norman that she can't give up on him. And we don't want her to!
It's a dear performance, a multifaceted gem. No one appreciated it more than Garland herself. They never worked together again, but she spoke of him so often and so appreciatively that he was invited to deliver her eulogy.
That day at Campbell's Funeral Home, James Mason said, "Judy's greatest gift was that she could wring tears out of hearts of rock."
The same can be said of Mason's beautiful but doomed creation, Norman Maine.
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